Fragile Child
by Rosebunse
Summary: Sasuke is abused and abandoned by Orochimaru after a failed justu. He is found by Itachi, who is left alone to care for his sick, fragile brother. Some OroSasu, with some ItaSasu if you squint.
1. Fragile Child

**This is my first story on this site, so please be kind :D **

He didn't think he remembered anything beyond the darkness of the room. It was a soft, comforting thing, the darkness; it kept him from seeing how his own filth and waste which had accumulated on the dirt floor. It kept him from seeing the pus-seeping cuts, the lice that half-hid in his straw-cot. His clothes-the pajamas he had worn for as long as he could remember-were torn and hung limply off of his skeletal frame, not that he noticed. Because he liked the dark, because the dark meant that he was safe. When he saw the light, it meant that Master was there. Sometimes, Master would slap him, tell him he was trash. He would hit him hard; kick him in his most sensitive areas. If he tried to cover himself, to curl into a little ball, Master would grab his arms until he felt that they would break. Sometimes, Master would do other things that weren't as bad as the beatings. Sometimes, Master would stroke his long hands through his hair; tell him that it would soon be alright, that they had to fix him. He liked those visits. He would lean into Master's touch, would sometimes wrap his arms around Master's waist and nuzzle into his warm chest. He liked to listen to Master's heartbeat. It was better than the darkness. But the darkness meant that he was safe from Master's beatings. He was confused.

He didn't like the nightmares, of the light streaming in and another man, a man who was not Master, come in. This man would laugh, would make him sleepy. Then he would wake up with a dull ache throughout his weak body.

Orochimaru liked to watch him sleep using the night-vision that fed the televions that lined his room. The boy was losing weight rapidly. He was sleeping more, almost thirteen hours a day. His hours awake were usually spent eating the slop Kabuto sent down. Sometimes, he would huddle in the corner, thin arms wrapped around his chest. He would cry or giggle uncontrollably, depending on whether or not his "Master" had been cruel or kind and loving.

At the moment, Sasuke was laying semi-conscious on his straw bedding, his body shaking with fever.

"Momma…?" his arms swaying over his head, reaching for an invisible care-giver who was just barely out of reach. "Momma…Momma, come back!" His voice was cracking under the strain of the sickness and continued abuse. "Momma," his hands gasping and pulling, "Momma, make it stop…" he whimpered.

Orochimaru didn't like this new development. As cruel and mean as he was, watching Sasuke so desperately call for his mother was perhaps a bit too much. Of course, it also meant that Kabuto's mind-wiping jutsu was not up to par. And, he thought as the boy curled onto his side, he needed him in some recoverable condition. It wouldn't do if he was permanently damaged.

He saw the light, then Master and the man who wasn't Master. This confused him; he never saw them together. He lifted his arm, tried to get Master's attention. He groaned at the pain the simple action brought him. But Master smiled, and gently took his hand, rubbing it lightly. This made him happy, because it meant that even with the other man there, Master would give him a nice visit. He would hold him, would caress him, and would make everything better.

"Shh, Sasuke, let Kabuto make everything better."

The other man lifted his shirt and massaged his chest, a soft glow emitting from his hands. It felt so warm and nice. When he was done, he turned to Master. He didn't understand what either man said, only that he felt Master wrap his arms around his shoulders and legs and pick him up. He rested his head on Master's chest, tried not to listen Master's harsh voice, tried not to think about how Master's grip hurt. He focused on the heart beat that always lulled him to sleep. He closed his eyes, he just wanted the darkness. The yelling, the swaying of Master's arms, set off a heavy throb behind his eyes; he nuzzled into Master's chest, breathing in his scent. It would all be okay soon, Master would make everything better. He felt so tired and cold, so weak; he just wanted Momma to come back.

This last thought brought him around a little. Where was Momma? Hadn't she just been with him? Master was talking loudly; his gripped on the boy's body was painful. The light hurt his eyes…Momma would come, she always came…

Kabuto made sure to keep four feet behind Orochimaru as they made their way to the examination room they kept free for Sasuke and his needs. Sasuke himself gazed up into Orochimaru's face, with his right hand gripping onto the older man's thin shirt. Orochimaru said very little. None of this was going his way. The justu, originally meant to keep Sasuke in line and quiet during the three year gap, had done a too good a job, it seemed. And so they had kept him locked in a small little room where they occasionally gave him some small amount of attention. They hadn't meant to ignore him so perfectly, but it was an easy thing to do given the boy's condition. He smelled, he whined like a baby, he did nothing but sleep and eat and shit himself. He was a baby, an annoying, broken baby who was now no use to anyone.

It was a struggle to just get him onto the table. He wasn't usually awake when they gave him his "check-ups". He was usually in a peaceful, drug induced slumber. It was much easier then. But now he clung to Orochimaru, looked pitifully up to the man who fooled him, who gave him comfort and who beat him when he cried too loud at night. When he shit himself, when he asked for his dead mother, when he begged for a glass of water to soothe his sore throat, when he screamed for a blanket because it was too cold…

"Get on the table, Sasuke," Orochimaru dropped him onto the cold metal, but the boy still hung on to his shirt. The boy shook his head and tried to hide his face in the man's chest. The bright light from the light above hurt, he felt dizzy. He felt cold, Master was warm. "Cold!" he whinned. But Master simply shoved him onto the cold metal, where the man who wasn't Master strapped him down by his wrists and ankles.

"There," Master gently stroked a few stray strands of hair out of the boy's face. Suddenly, the boy began to cough, spewing yellow and brown phlegm over the man's white face. This earned him a hard slap to the cheek.

"What do you think, Kabuto?" Master's voice was smooth, soft. The boy didn't know enough to know to be afraid of that voice. Kabuto did. He was quiet for a moment, but busied himself by looking for a tool or two for the examination. Before he could answer, however, Orochimaru turned back to Sasuke. "What do you think, _Sasuke_?" he looked to Kabuto's back, which tensed at the hiss. But Sasuke didn't know to tense. "It's cold," the boy said, tears beginning to creep up into his eyes. "Where's Momma?"

At this, the light in Orochimaru's eyes lit up bright as a star in winter. "Yes, Kabuto, where is Momma?"

**Hope everyone liked it! I hope to update it again soon! Reviews are loved! And suggestions are loved as well :)**


	2. A Certain Finding

**Here's Chapter 2! I guess a whole bunch of people loved the first one and I hope this is up to par. I hope no one minds that Sasuke is really, really OOC in this story. But remember, he's sick! So just enjoy!**

Kabuto was rough in his examination of the boy, who struggled against his bounds while he whimpered for his "Master", a title Orochimaru had beaten into his broken brain, to make it stop. First, Kabuto drew blood. It should have taken only a few minutes, but a useable vein impossible to find in the arm. Which lead him to the tender foot. But thankfully, the boy, being unable to see exactly what he was doing, felt nothing but a tight pinch, which in turn melted into the rest of his pains. The hard part came when Kabuto, with no help from Orochimaru, who stood none but a few feet away, tried to look into Sasuke throat. The boy was having none of it and turned his head from side to side until Kabuto finally grabbed his chin and forced the short tab onto the boy's tongue. Sasuke's breathe was the smell of vomit and bile. His throat itself was not the healthy pink it had been none but three weeks before; it was red, with even redder veins and broken sores through-out. Along the tonsils were yellowish white circles that appeared to go back even farther down than he could see. His teeth, Kabuto could see, were beginning to rot.

Sasuke had lost twenty-two pounds since the time they had placed him under the jutsu. His ribs were clearly visible, his stomach collapsed in. They had been trying to feed him, but it was difficult to keep the boy still enough to force the tube down his throat. Of course, Orochimaru had told Kabuto to avoid that, though this concern was more for the sake of physical appearances.

"Well?" the voice was a hiss, was soft and full of mocking concern. He had gotten used to the idea of the boy being useless.

Kabuto, sighing and trying his best to not let it known that he was horrified of the old man, looked up from the boy. "If we could incubate him, I think we could save his body. But the jutsu-"

"The jutsu, which was your idea, wasn't it, Kabuto?"

"My lord, none of the scrolls said anything about this," he pushed his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose, giving him a small moment to catch his breathe. "All any of them said was that the jutsu would make him reliant on you, sir. Not a single one of them said anything about this," he motioned towards the small, frightened boy, who now had tears streaming down his sunken cheeks.

Itachi found him on the side of a small dirt road. The sun was high and there was no breeze to push the heat along. At first, they had assumed the still figure to be a beggar left for dead by rogue ninja or some petty bandit. It was not unusual for this country; in fact, the only reason they stayed on the road at all was because of the heat, which was allowed some movement when it was safe from the confines of the woods. Itachi, who knew of Sasuke's defection to Sound, assumed that he was still with Orochimaru, relatively safe given that it would be another three years for any of his plans to come to fruition. It was only when they had come up to the figure that they saw that it was a small child of what looked to be about nine or ten. Its young age gave the two pause, which was enough time for a quick shiver of panic to grip Itachi's spine, which was enough time for him to bend down to look at the child's thick, disheveled hair, to see the oddly regular bruise on its neck.

Sasuke was unconscious, seemingly asleep. He was curled on his side, his hand gripping the dirt of the ground as if it were a bed sheet. His face was contorted into a grimace of pain that was made all the more horrible by the way his bones jutted out and sunk into his now fatless face. Kisame knew not to say a word as Itachi carefully lifted the boy, who looked paradoxically younger given his haggard appearance, into his arms. Sasuke, wearing nothing but what looked like an over-sized and tattered nightshirt, began to moan in his sleep.

"Shh," Itachi held the poor child closer to the warmth of his own body, "go back to sleep. Brother's here now…" He turned to Kisame. "Kisame? Does the next town have a hotel with private baths?"

"I would think so. It's something of a tourist spot. We have enough money for a few nights."

"He needs clothes," Itachi said, though this was more to himself than to Kisame, though both of them were already calculating the costs of the hotel, the clothes, and the extra medicine the boy surely would need. They had expected to stop in the next town for a quick stay. Though they hadn't any assignments and were fairly well supplied, neither enjoyed the humidity of the small country, which sat uncomfortable close to Grass. Kisame was still thinking about the money situation as they headed towards the town. They had only been expecting to spend very little on the actual rooms, maybe a little here and there on the tea houses and bars they preferred. It did not occur to Kisame to question Itachi's keeping of the boy. He knew Itachi did not hate him. He had already settled on this act as being perhaps more about who had done this to Sasuke than anything else. Orochimaru was, after all, Orochimaru.

Itachi kept by his side, his eyes trained on his brother's face. Sasuke looked small and pitiful in Itachi's arms. His mouth was gapped slightly open, showing stained teethe and pale gums. His brows were apt to furrow together, his voice to whine and whimper unintelligible words, his hands to grab at his brother's cloak. Itachi would comfort him best he could given the heat. They walked at a brisk pace, afraid of what attention they might draw if they ran. All the while, the two men thought of what they would need to care for the boy until they had figured out what to do with him.

It was barely evening when they finally reached the town. The hotel they found was spacious and expensive, far more than either had thought to spend. But to Itachi, the privacy Sasuke desperately needed would be worth the cost. The suite was large, complete with a sitting room and one large bedroom. The bathroom would be large enough for Itachi to wash Sasuke in peace, the bed large and comfortable. It was fortunate that Sasuke slept through the transfer to the bed, though even in his sleep he appeared confused at the new setting. His hands searched the sheet as if for something to hold on to, finally settling on Itachi's hand before snuggling into the thick, soft blankets. Itachi, with his free hand, stroked his hair away from his face. He felt Sasuke's fever, the sweat and grime that had accumulated on his dried skin. The child still wore that night shirt.

"Kisame?"

"Yes?" He stood near, by the door, ready for the list of chores that was sure to come.

"Will you go find him some proper clothes," in his quiet anger, it was not a question, "and medicine. Something for his fever. My wallet is in my bag."

Kisame nodded and left. He would leave and find the items and give Itachi a little time to collect himself. He looked back, to see Itachi still holding on to the small, thin hand, his other running through the child's lank hair.

**Ok, so, I don't think I did too great with this chapter. It's more of a filler than anything. It should pick up a little next chapter! I would really like a few suggestions on what you would like to happen. Please, nothing too graphic or anything.**


	3. A time well spent

**It seems like everyone really likes this story! I'm real happy about that :D Just to clear a few things up: This story take place about three weeks or so since Sasuke left the village. He just looks younger and everything because of how sick he is. **

He felt warm. Everything around him felt soft, light. And yet he felt sore; every small movement brought with it an ache, a pinch, a throb. He felt nauseous, his stomach heavy and thick. He felt hot, but only on his skin. He felt cold, but only in his muscles and bones.

A man who was not Master, but who also wasn't the other man, wiped a cool, wet clothe over his burning skin. This new man would periodically hold a cup to his lips and let him sip from the refreshing water it held. He would adjust the pillows that held him up and the blankets that covered his body.

"Where's Momma?" the boy asked. He remembered her being with him clearly. She had assured him that everything would be better soon. That it would all be better after he had slept. So, he had slept and now he was here in this nice, big room, in this warm, soft bed.

"I'm sorry, Sasuke," the man gently wiped the clothe against the boy's neck, slid it down to his small chest, "but Mother had to go out. She's at work right now." He smiled as he said this, as calm and evenly as he could. This small exchange was enough to assure Sasuke that all was as it should be. He was soon settled back to sleep without another word.

Itachi had begun to take these periods of unconsciousness as perfect times to practice what he would say and do when Sasuke was awake. So far, there had been no arguments or protests from the boy. He accepted whatever Itachi told him. This complacency, a trait previously unknown to Sasuke, angered Itachi. That he had to lie for fear of what the the truth would do to Sasuke's fragile mind angered Itachi. That he had to lie about the fate of their mother, that Orochimaru had used Sasuke's memories of their dead mother, to manipulate and control him, infuriated Itachi. But he kept this all away from the surface of his mind. It wouldn't do Sasuke any good if he was not calm and focused.

He thought of more immediate concerns. Sasuke needed clothes, special food and medicines. He would need a doctor. He needed a warm, safe place to stay. He could not provide that. He hated Orochimaru for this, he decided as Sasuke once again began to whimper in his sleep. The boy was begging for his Master to "stop". It "hurt". "Please, Master, I'll be good" and, Itachi's favorite, "Where's Momma? I want Momma". But Itachi stifled that anger and put it with all the rest.

Sasuke opened his eyes wide, confused, unshed tears collected there just to mock Itachi.

"It's okay, Sasuke," he took hold of his brother's hand once again, pressed it firmly. With his free hand, he carefully felt through the child's lank, greasy hair in an assuring, rhythmic matter.

"Where's Master?" he voice shook. It always shook.

"He's not here. I'm going to take care of you for a while, okay?"

Sasuke nodded, sank back into the pillows. His eyes, blank, dull, looked to the far wall. His breathing was still uneven, his fever still present.

"When Kisame gets back we're going to give you a bath, alright?"

"Who's Kisame?"

"He's my friend, Sasuke," he resoaked the cloth and applied it to Sasuke's forehead. "He's going to be helping me take care of you." He gave him the water again, careful not to let any splash out. He was cautious not to give him too much water.

"Do you feel better?"

Sasuke nodded, rolled onto his side. Itachi recovered him in the blanket. He wondered what this treatment must have felt like to Sasuke. He wished he knew what exactly the boy could remember.

"Sasuke," he remembered to be direct, "how old are you?"

Sasuke shook his head, like any child was apt to do, and made a vain attempt at hiding his face in the soft pillow.

"Sasuke? Are you thirteen?"

"No," he looked up, a small smile on his face.

"Are you younger or older?"

"Younger!" he giggled softly, happy at the small game.

"Twelve?" he would prolong it if it meant it gave Sasuke some break from his illness.

"No. Younger."

"Alright," he put on a mock-serious expression, one hand to his chin and the other scratching his cheek, "five?"

Sasuke hid his face again, a slightly louder giggle this time.

"Did I get it right?" Itachi felt his own smile deepen at old memories come to life.

Sasuke nodded. "Yeah!"

All was well for a few moments. Sasuke, still happy with the simple game, asked Itachi how old he was. He guessed sixteen. Itachi told him higher. Sasuke guessed twenty. Lower. Sasuke attempted to guess something close to seventeen, but lost all of that air to a long, rough coughing fit that went on for far too long. He doubled over, unable to catch his breath through the spasms that racked his chest. Itachi, unable to think of what to do, of how to help, gripped his brother's shoulders to steady him from falling over. Phlegm, thick, orange, brown and dark green, hit the soft blue blanket and left a trail down the boy's chin. He grabbed at his chest, struggled against Itachi's hold. Without knowing what else to do, Itachi, in desperation, hit his back with an open fist. He tried it again, harder, this time gaining a sharper _hack_. Itachi continued, careful not to add such force as to break a bone; the thought that he could scared him almost as much as Sasuke's coughs, which lasted another thirty seconds or so until Itachi, with one well-placed slap, dislodged a particularly large ball of mucus and muck.

**I guess I ended at a weird place, but I like ending at weird places. Adds character I guess. I hope you all review! And suggestions are welcomed! But please, don't expect too much SLASH.**


	4. A sick child

**I hope you guys don't mind this going kind of slow. I know where I want to go with this, but I'm having trouble getting there. **

Kisame was able to find clothes, a few shirts and pants, a bath robe, pajamas, underware, shoes and socks; food and medicine. It was all more difficult than what he had thought. Most of the problem was the boy's weight, what might not fit, what foods and medicine would kill him, and, of course, the pharmacists were of little help. He could not give them all of the information they needed. How could he when all he knew was that the boy was extremely underweight. That in itself was suspicious; they couldn't afford that in the best of times and with the boy, there was no room for error.

When he returned to the suite, he found Itachi still sitting with the boy, who was now awake and fairly alert given his condition. Itachi introduced them, telling Sasuke that Kisame was his "friend", that he would be helping him care for him until they found a safe place to put him. Sasuke, looking exhausted, said hello. His voice was shaky, cracked. It was a far cry from the proud, eager voice he had heard only months before.

"How are you feeling, Sasuke?"

The boy yawned. "I-I feel better," his eyes lifted towards Itachi, a small, tired smile crossing his face, "I-Itachi is taking care of me."

This small comment brought a small smile to both Kisame and Itachi, which brought a larger smile from Sasuke.

"Sasuke," Itachi leaned down, "it's time for your bath, remember?"

Sasuke nodded. Itachi uncovered him, while Kisame took out the pajamas and underwear. He would ask Itachi about Sasuke's condition after they put him back to bed. But it was unnerving seeing him like that. He wondered how Itachi, with his own health problems, was holding up.

XXX

Undressing Sasuke was too easy. There was no blush on the boy's face as Itachi pulled off his shirt. He did not attempt to cover himself or turn away from Itachi.

Bathing Sasuke was too easy. He didn't mind Itachi touching him, wiping him, scrubbing him. More than once Itachi washed his more "private" areas; Sasuke said nothing. In fact, he was enjoying himself immensely. The water was warm, Itachi was gentle. All he had to do was lay there in the tub. It was nice.

Itachi was calm. What had Orochimaru done to Sasuke? He was sure to get in between Sasuke legs, fearing any infection that might occur because of his squeamishness. Sasuke didn't say a word, just smiled in that relaxed, complacent way.

"Are you comfortable, Sasuke?"

"Yes," he sounded as if he were ready to fall back to sleep. Itachi squeezed a small dollop of shampoo into the palm of his hand, and then proceeded to massage the gel into Sasuke's scalp. Sasuke took this without comment, just as he had done with all of the other of Itachi's actions. He did as he was told and kept his eyes closed.

"Sasuke," Itachi began to rinse the boy's hair of the shampoo, "what did you usually do when you were with Master?"

Sasuke, seemingly drugged from the warmth of the water, from the sweet scent of the shampoo and the soap, shook his head. "I…um, I-I think I had a lot of naps?"

"Are you tired often?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I-I feel sleepy a lot. And I feel like I'm sick, but Master said I'll be better soon."

"That's good," Itachi unplugged the drain and gathered up the towels. "Alright, Sasuke, bath time is over." He pulled the small boy out of the tub. "Once I get you dried off, you can have supper, okay?"

It was easy, very easy, to dry the boy off. It was easy to touch in whatever way that was "needed", without a look of shame or embarrassment. Was he used to this? Did Sasuke somehow find this all to be "normal", or at the very least not uncommon? A fear that had been festering in his gut for past three weeks crept into Itachi's already tight chest. Sasuke, nothing more than a sex- toy to a pedophile. Nothing more than a sex-toy to a pedophile he had willingly and forcefully gone to, like a child led away from its mother by the promise of candy-

He saw the bruise, just beginning to heal into a dark purple with developing yellow edges, which blanketed Sasuke's rectum. Of course, Itachi had assumed, had hoped, that it had been dirt or shit. It was a bruise. Along Sasuke's back, now clean from grime, ran long, narrow, red scratches, from his shoulders to the base of his back. And, of course, there were more bruises. Some small, some the size of a man's long hand. But it was the first bruise that almost made him snap.

XXX

Sasuke just barely fit in the clothes Kisame had found. Though they were comically too big for him, Sasuke, not used to being such nice presents, loved them, especially the soft, warm, teal pajamas. He also loved the beef broth Itachi made for him. He loved the tiny cherry tomatoes Itachi cut into even smaller bites. He especially loved the chocolate milk. He thought it was nice, sitting at the table with Itachi and Kisame. He didn't know that such quiet dinners were abnormal; he only knew that he preferred this to…He liked this.

He couldn't eat as much as Itachi or Kisame. A small bowl of broth, a few slices of the tomatoes, half of the glass of milk was all his shrunken stomach could handle. He was beginning to feel tired again, he realized as he rubbed at his eyes, which drew the attention of the ever attentive Itachi.

"Are you feeling tired, Sasuke?"

He nodded sleepily and yawned. His limps felt heavy and a gentle haze seemed to settle over his vision. He was barely aware of Itachi gathering him up in his arms and carrying him back to his bed.

"Did you like your dinner, Sasuke?" he felt Itachi tuck him into the soft blankets once again.

"Yeah," he opened his eyes to find Itachi sitting on the mattress beside him. He felt himself smile. He didn't find that odd, to smile; Itachi made him feel safe. "It tasted good."

"Good," Itachi ruffled his hair, still gentle and calm. "Tomorrow we will try a little more, alright? You need to get your strength back."

"Okay," he yawned and curled onto his side. Itachi adjusted his blanket so that it covered his frail body. It seemed to only take seconds for Sasuke to descend into a deep, peaceful sleep.

XXX

"What are you planning, Itachi?"

They were alone; the dinner all disappeared from the table as though it had always been so clean. It was quiet, though each had their ears attuned to detect even the slightest change in the environment. Itachi wished he could turn off his sense of hearing; he could close his eyes, cover with a blanket, not eat and keep his mouth shut, cover his nose with a rag, but he could never stop hearing the beating of his heart, of his blood struggling to make its runs, of his eyes moving and teeth clicking. Or maybe he was making that up.

"We can't keep him, I know that," it was empty. "We do not have the time to care for him."

"I didn't see any suitable hospitals when I was shopping."

"We will take him to Konocha," he said, definite, calm and sure as he always was, though Kisame could detect that trace of a sigh that came from his lips.

"It's the right thing to do," he stretched, suddenly tired from the long, confusing day. "We're no doctors. You're sick enough most of the time. What would I do with both of you?"

Itachi nodded, but Kisame knew they would have to get rid of him soon. For Kisame felt he could see some of the truth bubbling in that nod, the way Itachi's shoulders slumped just a little bit, how his eyes slanted forward to the table, away from Kisame.

Kisame was not shocked when he heard the door to Sasuke's room open and the boy stagger to come out. He was crying, his hands balled and held to his chest.

"Itachi?" his voice shook, it always shook Kisame realized.

Itachi was out of his seat and by the boy's side in a fraction of a second, his right arm rubbing his back and his left stroking his cheek.

"I-I-," he buried his face in Itachi's chest and gripped at the sides of his shirt.

"Shh, what's the matter, Sasuke?" he continued to rub his back gently. "Did you have a nightmare?"

But Kisame saw the brown liquid that puddled at the boy's feet. "Um, Itachi?" He motioned to the floor and couldn't help but feel something close to pity at the horrified expression on Itachi's face.

"Sasuke," the boy seemed to hold tighter to his brother's shirt, "did you have an accident?"

"I'm sorry!" he turned his face up to Itachi, "I'm sorry! I-I had a nightmare. I-I didn't want to make a mess! Please don't get mad! I thought you went to bed and I was going to clean it up with soap! Please don't get mad!" he quickly buried his head back into Itachi's chest, his cries renwed, his grip tighter.

Itachi kept rubbing his back in that soft, gentle motion, just as their mother had done for him when he was sick.

And Kisame pitied him.


	5. i 3 U

**So, here is chapter 5! I can't believe how many people seem to love these stories, but they seem to. Please take a look at my other story, "The Love of a Brother". But anyways…so, um, yeah. Last chapter was rather depressing. And I know not everyone agrees with my decision to send Sasuke back to Konocha, but, believe me, it's for the best. **

There was nothing they could do for the blankets and sheet other than for Kisame to take them to a 24-hour laundry-mat that was located on the other side of the small village. They did not want to arouse anymore suspicions from the hotel staff.

Itachi did his best to comfort his brother, but Sasuke would have none of it. He _begged_ Itachi not to be mad, that it was an accident, that he would clean it up soon.

Itachi had moved him to the room Kisame and Itachi currently shared. Though it had been more than a struggle to unwind Sasuke from the tight ball he attempted to wind himself up in. He now wore nothing but the robe, which hung from his shoulders and which was far too big for his small waist.

"It's fine," Itachi had kept to rubbing his brother's back. His voice was, as always calm, though he could not help but let it quiver just a bit. "Sasuke," it was raised just a bit to compensate for Sasuke's own loud cries, "it's fine."

"I-I'm s-sorry!" he kept his face buried in Itachi's shirt, hands still gripping the folds of his brother's shirt. Itachi kept on rubbing his back, kept saying the same words. He knew Sasuke would fall asleep soon. And then he would put him to bed, he would go out and make a cup of bitter green tea. He would sit at the table in the darkened room and stare at a wall, which one didn't matter, until Kisame came back. And then they would talk about sending Sasuke back to Konocha, and he would agree to everything Kisame said because it was true. Because he knew, in his shriveled up little heart that was dying of a diseased inflicted upon him by a deity well versed in the art of retribution, that he couldn't do this every day. He couldn't pretend that Sasuke was just sick, that this was all the poor child's fault, that he wasn't tired…

He looked down when he noticed that the boy had stopped crying. He was asleep, his still slumped against Itachi's for support. He carefully gathered the boy up and put him to bed. And Itachi would have followed through with his plan; he would have went out of that room and into the other for bitter tea. But then Sasuke woke up for just a moment, long enough for him to grab onto the folds of Itachi's pant-leg.

"I-I'm sorry," his voice sounded weak and tired from overuse.

"I'm not mad at you, Sasuke," he leaned down and tussled Sasuke's hair. "You are still not feeling well. I know that if you were healthy, that would not have happened."

"No," he agreed with all Itachi said. "I'll get better soon. I promise I will, Itachi."

"I know you will-"

"Is Mommy home yet?"

A knot tightened.

"No, she is still at work. She's working very hard to get the money to pay for your medicine. She loves you very much."

"Can't she come home for a little bit? I-I-" his voice was trembling, "m-miss her."

"I know. Why don't you scoot over? Would you like it if I lay with you for a little bit?"

Sasuke shook his head and moved over enough for Itachi to lie next to him. "There," he turned on his side and pulled Sasuke into a tight, safe embrace. "Everything will be better soon, Sasuke. I promise. I won't let anyone touch you ever again."

He felt Sasuke nod and snuggle against his warm body. Itachi hated himself.

XXX

"What are those?"

"Pull-ups."

"'They're diapers."

"No, they are pull-ups. If they were diapers, we would have to lay him down every few hours and hold him down just to put the damn thing on."

"He is too old to be wearing a diaper."

"We can't be worrying about him shitting himself every night-"

"I can sleep with him-"

"You are sick. You should rest more often as it is."

…

"He won't even notice. He'll feel better when he thinks he's not shitting himself every night."

…

"At worst, there might be a rash, but we can handle that. Anyways, he'll be back in Konocha before we know it."

**Ok, that's all I can think of right now. I hope you liked it I know it's rather short, but, you know how it is. Please review! And I own nothing for this story or anything else.**


	6. Mother

**Here's more of "Fragile Child"! It's been a few days, but I hope it's worth the wait :D I own nothing! I'm not too happy with it. I hope some of you give me good suggestions in your reviews! I'm not sure what to do with this story. I need some direction!**

Kisame was right; Sasuke did not notice the diapers. He did have a few more "accidents", but Itachi was glad to see that none were as bad as the first night's. The few accidents there were were easy to clean-up after, if only because they were no great surprises. It was easy caring for Sasuke, who only asked not to be left alone. So he slept with Itachi. He was even able to walk around the small suite with little assistance from either Itachi or Kisame, both of whom watched his every step for fear of a bad fall. Sasuke, who smiled and played happily every day, never said another word of "Master". It almost seemed as if he had completely blocked out the incident. His small world revolved around Itachi, much to Kisame's, who remembered that it was ultimately in the boy's best interest to take him to Konoha, chagrin. When he would bring up this fact to Itachi, the younger man would nod along with him, but wouldn't say a word.

They couldn't afford to stay in the suite beyond the week.

"He'll be fine," Kisame assured him. It was the night before they had to leave. Sasuke laid peacefully in Itachi bed, his arms wrapped around a stuffed cat doll Itachi had brought him in the hope that it would make the move easier. Sasuke called the little thing Itachi.

"The weather is fine this time of year," Kisame stretched himself out on the bed, keeping his eyes off of Itachi, who was petting his brother's damp hair.

"I know." He always said that.

"We brought him everything he could need," he rolled over and tried to fall to sleep. He wanted to believe that Itachi would go through with it.

XXX

Kisame was asleep. Itachi was in bed with his arms wrapped tightly around Sasuke. He was staring up at the white ceiling. Kisame was right. It was best to take Sasuke back to Konoha. Yes, the week had been easy. Sasuke was happy, he was happy. But he knew that this couldn't last. Because it was his fault. Because it was his fault Sasuke was here at all. It was his fault that Sasuke had been tortured for so long. And it was his fault that he would have to leave him all alone again.

He felt Sasuke snuggle against his chest and sigh in contentment. He squeezed tighter. It would all be fine, he knew that. They wouldn't touch him in Konoha. He wasn't a threat like this. And they knew he would kill them all if they hurt him. He would kill Orochimaru too and show them the body just to prove it.

"I love you," he said to the unconscious child asleep in his arms. "I'm sorry, you know that."

He didn't notice the tears slipping from their docks, nor the shudder in his breath.

XXX

It was raining the day they left the town. It was breezy and cold, which prompted Itachi to dress Sasuke in a jacket under his heavy cloak. He was also sure to hold tight to Sasuke's hand as they left the gates of the town. Sasuke did not mind this extra precautions; he was happy to have some of Itachi's attention. He was happy to look at the unfamiliar trees and plants that lined the road, to hear the chirping and singing of the invisible birds and insects that huddled in the green leafs. He could barely remember such things, though he felt the ghosts of their memories at the edges of his fractured mind. But he barely noticed this as he smiled at the world around him.

"Do you like the rain, Sasuke?" Itachi asked him when he saw the boy's curiosity.

"Yeah!" he giggled his smile bright. But he tightened his own grip on Itachi's hand. Itachi noticed how he held tight to the cat-doll Itachi. But Sasuke kept his smile, his eyes still bright and traveling from tree to tree in search of some new and interesting thing.

Kisame was quiet, though his presence was light. While Itachi watched Sasuke who watched the trees, Kisame watched the road, the leaves, and the difference in the air. Not that he was worried for himself. It was the fragile boy.

XXX

It was not abnormal for Itachi and Kisame to be on the road until late into the evening with few stops in between. They both enjoyed the noise the night insects made, the moon, the night breeze. By mid-day, Sasuke was hungry and out of breath. Though he tried his best to hide it, Itachi could feel the way he leaned against him, how he stumbled on any little dip in the road. So they stopped and settled down for a lunch consisting rice balls and dried jerky. And then, Sasuke decided, it was time for his nap.

"There, Itachi laid out his cloak on the wet grass, "when you wake up, we'll keep at it till it gets dark, alright?"

Sasuke nodded sleepily. "I know. Where are we going?"

Itachi helped him onto the make-shift bed, sure to keep him wrapped in his own cloak. He nestled him in his lap, against the warmth of his body. "To a place called Konoha."

"What's that?" Sasuke snuggled against his chest, his eyes half-lidded and his cheeks rosy with the anticipation of sleep.

"Don't worry, everything will be okay. The people there will be able to help you with what's making you sick. You'll be able to get better there-"

"Will Mommy be there?"

"We'll have to see," he held Sasuke tighter. "She has to work for your medicine. It's all very expensive-"

"Will I see her when I'm better then?" the child seemed suddenly awake.

"I-I d-"

"Sasuke, Itachi is very tired," Kisame said from his perch on a tree stump, "and so are you. You can talk about this when after your nap." He smiled, he always smiled.

But the meaning of that smile was lost on Sasuke, who took this to remind him that he was tired, that he needed his nap. But Itachi stayed awake. Kisame stayed awake.

"What do you plan on telling him?"

"That his mother loves him very much-"

"He's a child now, Itachi. Children need their mothers."


	7. My Mother Was a Fish

**I know I said that this would be up sooner, but time just kept getting away from me. Between uschool and some minor health problems, I just haven't found the time. But I hope this makes up for it :D I own nothing.**

_He was on the ground. It was dark, it was cold, it was silent. He felt sick, his stomach hurt. His head felt heavy, his body light. He curled into a tight ball, joints cracking with the slight movement. Master would visit him soon. He would make it better. He shivered, though he felt sweaty. He couldn't be cold if he was sweating, but it was cold. It was very cold. He wanted a blanket. A heavy, fluffy blanket like the ones Mommy would cover him with when he was sick, when he was cold. Where was Mommy? He failed to stifle another tremor that rushed through his body just as he began to cough, violently. He wrapped his thin arms around his heaving chest, his head hitting against the cold floor with every new shake. _

"_M-Mom-m-my?" he groaned again. Mommy was here. Mommy was here, she'd be here soon. Master too. Master would make everything better soon. He had been a good boy, just like Master had told him to be. He hadn't made a mess, just like Master had wanted. He tried to focus on the promise Master had made him: If he didn't make a mess in his bed, he could sleep with Master, in Master's warm bed. Soon, Master would be here soon._

_He heard footsteps, the squeak the old door made as it opened in that painfully slow way. "Good morning, Sasuke." He felt a hand, a cool hand, caress his sweaty brow. "M-Mas…'as-t-ter?" _

"_Shhh,, shhh. Poor little Sasuke." He opened his eyes as he was straightened into Master's lap, his head against the man's chest. "You were having a bad dream, weren't you?" He nodded as the man rubbed away a trail of drool that ran from his mouth to his chin. _

"_It hurts," he snuggled against the man's chest, breathing in the smells that coated his clothes. Another tremor seized him, almost knocking him out of Master's protective hold. But Master held him tight. "Make it stop…"._

"_Tsk, tsk," Master was looking down at the straw he used as bedding, "Look at the mess you've made-"_

"_Master…M-ma-"_

_Master dropped him to the ground, his head hitting the stone hard. He knew what was next, he tried to curl into a ball, as tight and close as he could manage, but was not able to get away from Master's sharp kicks. Again and again, in his side, against his back._

"_You little bitch," Master said, his voice as calm as ever. Master was never angry. Master never yelled; but Master would hit him. Master would kick him. Master had to correct him. But he hadn't made a mess-_

_A swift, sharp kick connected with his upper back-_

_ he knew he hadn't made a mess. But he must have. He felt hot tears spread down his cheeks, a cry clogged in his swollen throat. _

_The kicks stopped. Master grabbed his chin, rough, forcing his neck to turn, forcing him to look into the man's golden eyes. "You are so stupid" He slapped him. "You can't do anything, can you?" Another slap. "All you ever do is cry and shit yourself." A harder slap. Master slammed his head to the ground._

"_I'm sorry! I'm-"_

"-sorry! N-no…"

Kisame wiped the cool, wet clothe against the boy's hot skin. Itachi held his hand as tight as his weak muscles would allow. He laid to the left, Sasuke to the right, Kisame, patient, tired Kisame, in the middle. The young boy trembled as he attempted to kick away the blanket. But Kisame stopped him. He held him down as another tremor passed through the boy's thin frame. "M-mommy? Mommy, please….Mommy!"

"It's alright," Itachi held tight to his hand, feeling it tighten and loosen as the tremors kept their steady pace. "Brother's here, Sasuke. I'm right here!" He raised his voice over the minor screams and yelps that admitted from his little brother's sore, tired throat. He wanted to kick off his own blankets, to grab Sasuke tight, to kill Orochimaru again and again. Because that horrible old man just couldn't die enough.

"He's getting better," Kisame loosened his hold of the body of the boy, turned to Itachi, who laid pale and clammy under Kisame's cloak and blanket. A loud roar escaped the clouds that floated above their campsite. More ran followed, heavy and loud through the thin, brown material. "Really."

Another smile, another tired sigh as the boy mumbled out more sounds, half-words and whimpers, before he was silent, sweat trailing down his pale, ashen face. Kisame turned to Itachi, careful not to get in the way of his view of Sasuke. "Go to sleep," he straightened the cloak, righted the pillow.

"He needs me," he sighed, the sweat on his brow made bright by light of the oil lamp.

"You're sick. You should've said something earlier, not when he's spazing out."

In fact, Itachi hadn't said a word when Sasuke's seizures had begun some half hour before. He had merely slumped to the floor as Sasuke's bizarre yelps and whimpers filled the tent. He had been out some minutes before he had awoken to find Kisame covering him in his own cloak while Sasuke, still in the clothes he had worn throughout the day, thrashed and cried out beside him. He wanted his mother, for Master to stop, for someone to make the pain stop. Or, more likely, he would make those strange yelps, his body contorting and straightening while Itachi, his own chest tight, his body feeling as if it could all just collapse in on itself at any moment, laid helpless as Kisame worked and worked to make them comfortable.

He tightened his hold on the small hand he held once again. Sasuke groaned, turned his head to the face away from him, his free hand gripping at the thin blanket Kisame had given him. But it was better now.

Kisame sighed as he placed the cool clothe on Itachi's brow before straightening Sasuke's bedding. The slight rustle of the fabric was accented by the rain and wind that tried its best to make itself known to its small audience. The peacefulness was only interrupted by Itachi's shallow breaths, by Kisame's curses, and by Sasuke, who was sick.

XXX

The night stayed quiet, the world it enveloped, for the most part, asleep and at rest. There were only small clusters of activity which the rain periodically, and quite happily, broke up. The small villages and towns that littered the continent were dark, silent places. The windows were bolted, the doors locked, the children tucked in tight under warm, heavy covers. The world, as anyone cared to call it with little regard for the other piece of land some ways away, was asleep, which is a very different thing from being at peace. Sleep often carries with it no hint of peace, despite what you've been told. Sleep, so often plagued by those horrid scenes from the waking hours, is only useful for preparing oneself for those said horrid waking hours, the ones so many do whatever they can to horridly leave behind for the safe confines of sleep. It's so easy, really, to go to sleep. Just close your eyes, relax your head and wait. The whole process doesn't take but a few minutes. And the best part? You can come back anytime you want.

But maybe this easiness is what keeps it so far from peace? thought Itachi Uchiha as he did his best to quietly slide nearer to where Sasuke, wet with sweat and shaking with fever, lay. Kisame, he knew, had taken a moment to calm himself by the fire after the rough beginnings of the night. He would be angry with Itachi, both for over exerting himself and perhaps waking Sasuke. But, he thought as he gently uncovered Sasuke just enough to give himself room to move beside him, it seemed to calm Sasuke when they slept together. To know that he was with someone who loved him, someone who would protect him, it allowed him easy sleep. And Sasuke, he decided as he adjusted the blankets over their bodies, deserved sleep, deserved to escape from the Hell he had helped to send him to.

XXX

Kisame yawned, continuing to ignore the cool rain that calmly slipped past him to its way to the ground. The campsite was cold, drenched in the wet rain that fell from the dark clouds that blanketed the skies high above. He sat on the ground, his cloak still in the tent with Itachi. His sword, not minding the rain and relishing the cool mud, sat quietly the tent's small opening. Its job was simple, as was his. He sighed, enjoying how the moon reflected off of the small droplets that fell. When he had first met Itachi, he had some understanding that he would be a chaperone for the boy. It wouldn't have made sense otherwise. Truth be told, it had been easy, really. Others would have scoffed or laughed outright at being asked to do something which seemed so silly, so beneath them. To Kisame, it had been fun, for the most part. It had been interesting, to watch Itachi grow little by little, to see him slowly change. And yet, it had been sad, to see someone so young already so doomed. But, he tried to ignore that. He had, in fact, done a fairly good job of ignoring it too.

And then Itachi got sick. It had started as a very simple thing, his illness. As a cough, as chills, a slight fever and weakness. The illness, at the start thought of as a collective until it became clear to Kisame that it was of one singular design, never left entirely. Sometimes it would loosen its hold on poor Itachi, leaving him almost normal, almost as strong as he had been before. And then it would almost snap him in half with its strength, leaving Kisame with nothing to do but do what he thought himself incapable of doing until he was forced to. The cleanings, the feedings, the holding and coddling's. All in secret, of course, he thought as the clouds uncovered stars in the distance.

He sat back, almost enjoying how the cold water seeped into his clothes, his skin, through the fabric. The world was dark, save for the light that reflected off of the small drops that fell down and down until they could fall no more. While most shinobi thought they would most likely die young, Itachi knew this to be fact. Even Kisame could pretend that he may reach the ripe age of sixty. But Itachi could not even give himself that. He would die young, probably alone if it wasn't for Kisame. He would die without a wife to mourn him, without children to remember him for the small bit of good every man is entitled to, no matter their sin. He would most likely die in the cheapest room in the cheapest hotel; alone save for medication and Kisame, alone.

XXX

When the morning finally came, the sky was still grey and heavy with the potential of more rain. The air was cool, far too cold for that particular time of year. The forest around the small camp-site was very silent, save for the water that occasionally made its way to the ground or the trees that stretched in the cool morning air. The smell of sweet stale rain and grass shifted through the air while the birds adjusted their wings, their voices silent. The sound of retching broke through the silky silence, the smell invading the seemingly holy solitude of the forest.

Itachi hung out from the opening of the tent, held safely off of the ground Kisame, who looked almost indifferent to the small scene. Sasuke stared at the back of the scene, his mind still muddled and adrift. He brought his blanket closer to his face, the dim morning sun stirring thick nausea that threatened to put him into the same position. It only lasted a few minutes more, however, as Itachi had very little in his stomach. It did not take long for Kisame to settle him into his own respective spot beside Sasuke.

"Good morning, Sasuke," he said as he covered Itachi in two or three layers of blankets and clothes. "Itach just got a little bug. Probably something he ate." He smiled, invisible in the dark of the small tent. "How are you this morning?"

"M'head hurts…" he groaned, shifting a bit under his own heavy covering. "Itachi?"

"I'm fine," he forced his voice into a strength he most certainly did not possess.

"What's going on?" Sasuke voice was suddenly high, shaky.

"I'm fine, Sasuke, just a little sick, that's all. Kisame is taking good care of me."

"Would you like a little medicine for your headache, Sasuke?" Kisame moved around to face the boy, now a mere outline against the dark.

"N-no…"

"I know it doesn't taste good, but it will make you feel better." He pulled the boy, still too weak from the seizures and fever, into a sitting position, holding the bottle as Sasuke obediently sipped the bitter liquid before settling back into a deep sleep. The morning was quiet once again after that.

**I'm sorry this took so long. The worst thing is that I'm not 100% on it, but I wanted it out of the way. **

**The truth is, I was working far too many hours at my job. Sure, the money was great, but between that and school, the stress was apparently killing my liver LOL That's not something to really laugh about, but believe me, the whole thing was just a little funny in retrospect.**


	8. Drinking

** So here's chapter 8! Yep…now, I know I said I would have this updated sooner, but, you know, winter break has been kinda crappy for me. Now, not at all like, "death in the family bad", but just, you know, not the best. I own nothing. **

Sasuke had been in and out of sleep the whole day. His skin glistened with sweat, his chest _heaved _up and down. His hands gripped at the blanket that covered his withering, jerking body. Itachi lay asleep, peaceful, beside him, while Kisame did his best to _quietly _calm and sedate the child. It had been hard enough to convince Itachi to take the pills, he did not need for him to come awake while this mess happened.

"It hurts!" the child was awake, tears down his face, "I-it-uhg-h-hurts!"

"Shhh, I know," he wiped a wet clothe across his forhead, "It will be alright in a little bit. Let the medicine work-"

"Where's Itachi?" the boy's eyes were clouded, his cheeks rosy and his voice scraped raw.

"He's right here," he motioned over to the sleeping form no more than a foot away.

"No," he struggled a bit under the strong hand, his eyes wide, "where's _Itach?"_

It was then that Kisame remembered the small doll Itachi had insisted on buying. He frantically scanned the small area from his spot beside Sasuke, who grow more erratic with every wasted second now that he remembered his doll.

"Where is he?"

"Don't worry, Sasuke," he slid over, digging through the blankets and coats that had accumulated across the bottom of the tent. He remembered taking the thing from Sasuke when he had begun his seizing, but where had he thrown it? Sasuke rolled onto his side, his eyes now bright with tears just waiting to drop down his cheek. He was scared and cold, achy with a fever that would not relent. He knew Itachi was sick, that disturbing him would only make him sicker. What if Itachi died? he wondered. He curled up tight, his chest painfully full as his tears slid down onto his pillow. He didn't want to be alone. What if Momma never came back?

"There!" he did not notice Kisame's triumphant smile as he pulled the cat doll from a pile of dirtied sheets. It was such a simple thing, really, to find the little doll, in such a week as this, this small victory was projected three folds by the pile failures that sat beside it. His heart sank to his knees, then, when he saw how little it meant to the boy, who laid curled in upon himself like a dried, fallen leaf.

"Sasuke," he presented the doll proudly, despite the heaviness of his heart, "look't what I found."

The boy did look up, his dark eyes black in the dim light provided by the battery powered lamp. He did not reach up for it. He seemed to barely register Kisame fold it under the crook of his arm. Kisame felt his forehead as he had done several times already that day. While it was warm and slick with sweat, it was no different than when he had felt for it earlier that day.

"Sasuke," he gave the boy a light shake, his fear of another fit out-weighing any fear of Itachi's wrath at his brother's death, "how do you feel now? Don't you want your doll, Itachi?"

The boy nodded, tears fresh on his pink cheeks. His arm tightened around the remembered toy, a whine stuck in his throat. "I-Itachi?"

"Yes, see? I found him, he's safe. Is there anything else you want?"

He shook his head, his eyes suddenly focused on the face that stood out in the dim light of the tent. "Is Itachi going to die?"

"No," Kisame said without hesitation. He had already thought over the question for many years and had come to the conclusion long ago. "He's just sick. It's just bad luck that you'd both be sick at once, but Itachi will be fine." It sounded so simple when he said it out loud. Sasuke's disposition, however, was left unchanged. His right hand had found its way to his mouth; he began to suck his thumb, Itachi's namesake still held tight close to him.

Kisame fought the urge to knock the finger out of the boy's mouth. All he wanted, more than anything in the world, was to make this all go away. Though it was less maddening than a simple annoyance, it still itched its way into his skin. He patted the boy's soft hair, giving him a toothless, thin smile. The boy stared ahead, the _sucking _loud in the silence of the tent.

XXX

Itachi awoke to Sasuke positioning himself to lie beside him. It was dark in the tent, though Itachi could not say what time it exactly was. He did not make a sound as Sasuke wrapped his arms around his chest, his heart thumping fast as a rabbit caught in a trap. He could hear the boy's sharp breath, his tremors and shakes still present and strong. He could feel the heat from the tears as they soaked into his shirt. Itachi kept still, his breathing even as if he were asleep. Sasuke needed his rest and he would be up all night-or was it day?-if he woke up now. So he laid there, quiet as he could will his broken body to be until he was sure sleep had over-taken him.

Outside, the air was cool. Kisame sat not far off nursing a small fire. By the stars, Itachi saw that it was just past midnight. Kisame gave him a toothless smile as he stood-it felt good to stand-beside him.

"I was afraid you weren't waking up," his voice was quiet. "Just my luck to have both of you bed-ridden."

Itachi nodded, suddenly very tired. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Just the whole day."

Itachi stretched his tired limps, still not wanting to sit on the dry grass. "How has he been?"

"His fever's down, no seizures in a while," Kisame sipped from a bottle he had kept hidden until now. "Nope, he was just worried about you, mostly."

Itachi nodded again, his eyes focused on the dancing flames of the fire. "Thank you."

"I don't know what you're goin' ta do," he took another sip, "but I can't keep doing this."

"I know."

"No, I don't think you do. We're taking him back."

"That was always our plan for him."

"I'm sure it was, but I just want to make sure you know you had better stick to it. Ya don't have anyone but me, Itachi. You're all alone, same as me-"

"You're drunk," honest surprise.

"Yeah," a gulp, no need to hide, "yes I am. Because I realized something, Itachi. I realized that you're using me, 'cause I can't go no where's else."

He looked up, his beady eyes wet with drink and smoke.

Another gulp. "You-you're the only one I like. And you know that, don't you? Yeah. I don't want to be alone either!" Another gulp before throwing the empty bottle far into the darkened woods. "S-so what're ya goin' to do? Stay with me till ya dead, then leave me alone." His voice, unsteady as the wind that tickled past the tops of the high trees, was soft. Itachi forced his ears to take in every single last word.

He was silent.


	9. Snake in the Grass

**OK…So, Yeah, I'm sorry. But I want you guys to know that's life just got away from me LOL I've actually been writing and rewriting stuff for months. **

**Actually, I've been doing stuff on another site , on interactive stories, which are basically badly written "Chose Your Own Adventure" stories for "adults" LOL**

**I started two, which can be found here:**

**This one is about torturing Sasuke, and I know some of you'll love that LOL**

** main/interact/item_id/1866201-Naruto-Slave-Sasuke/map/1**

**This one is about torturing all of Team 7 in fun and unique ways LOL**

** main/interact/item_id/1871688-Naruto-Mission-Gone-Wrong/map/1**

**Please do whatever you want with them! Continue them on! And check out some of the other stuff too!**

_The world steadied into view as the throbbing pain slowly subsided. He felt himself being touched, of being patted on the cheek. His head hurt the worst. He groaned as he felt hands grip his shoulders before the world shot white. _

_ Master slapped him _again_, threatening to send him back into the dark world from which he had only suddenly just left. _

_ "Who am I?" he had hold of his chin, forcing him to stare straight ahead into the glassy, amber-gold eyes of the man before him. He tried to speak, to force air up from his lungs and out his mouth only to have it become entangled in a knot in his throat. _

_ "Who am I!"_

_ "M-Ma-" he shut his eyes tight as he threw all of his concentration into making the painful sounds, "M-Ma-st-ter?"_

_ "Yes," the man ran his long fingers through his hair, "yes…"_

_ "M-Master?" he hiccupped as hot tears ran down from his sunken eyes, "Y-you're M-Mast-ster?"_

_ "That's my little boy," he caressed his cheek, "my good, sweet, little boy." _

_ He felt himself smile at the words and leaned into the man's cool touch. _Master…

_The scene changed. He was on his belly on a nice, soft, warm bed. He didn't remember-_

_ Master ran his hand up and down his sore back. "My, my, what a _good _boy you are. So _soft. _Did you like our game, Sasuke?"_

_ He turned his head to face him, his eyes barely open as he struggled to remember why he was in Master's warm bed. _

_ "I-I don't remember. My back hurts-"_

_ He opened his eyes a little more and smiled when Master laughed, only confused slightly at whatever was supposed to be the joke. _

_ "I bet it does. We both had a very _fun _night."_

_ He was in the dark room again. It was cold and dark, with his bed made of straw and his clothes the white pajamas he had always and forever worn. His weak body shook and convulsed again his will, but he kept his mouth shut. Tears, hot and salty as the soup he was given, sank down his sunken cheek as he tried to keep silent. He had to be silent. If he was good and quiet, if he didn't make a mess, if he was a good little boy, Master would take him home. Master had said that he was getting better, that the other man had said that he would be all better soon and that he could go home if he was a good little boy who didn't make a mess and was quiet-_

_ The door opened, letting in the harsh light. But he didn't dare move from his spot on his bed. Master would tell him when he could move._

_ "Sasuke, there you are," Master, a black shadow against the light, glided into the dark of his room and patted him on the head. Behind him stood the other man, but Sasuke paid him no mind, for Master was with him._

_ "Shh, what's the matter?" he hushed the boy who had begun to cry and try to grab at his legs._

_ "Is Mommy coming? I-I want my Momma!" he begged. Master, his face ever the same, slapped him and gripped his shoulders hard._

_ "You little bitch," he held him with one thin, long hand and hit him with a closed fist to the side of his cheek. Master, his face contorting more with rage and fury at some misdeed Sasuke could not remember, was still for a moment. Sasuke wanted his Mommy, it would all be okay, because Master was punishing him because he _had _to be quiet and polite or Mommy wouldn't love him and he would never get to go home ever again. _

_ Master was half pulling, half dragging him down the hall. His legs could barely keep up with Master's long strides. The other man would push and shove him if he fell too far behind. Two times he tripped over his shaking legs and was dragged against the rough, cold floor. Soon, after much turning and dragging, he was outside. The grass tickled his bare feet as he marveled at the large trees that surrounded the area. _

_ "Sasuke," Master said, his hands cupping his face, forcing him to look into his eyes, "since you're feeling better, Kabuto and I have decided that you get to play a game. If you win, Master will give you a wonderful treat."_

_ "T-treat? Mommy? C-can I-I go h-home?"_

_ "Oh, well," Master caressed his cheek where only minutes before he had hit him, "I don't know. But-" he forced Sasuke to look in the direction of the other man who now held a small wooden box, "-if you catch the blue butterfly, you'll find out."_

_ And then the other man opened the box. A small blue butterfly appeared to float up and about. Sasuke tried to catch it. Master would give him a treat if he caught it. So he ran all about for the butterfly, until-_

Itachi was holding him tight, despite his struggling and crying. There, across the small stream, was the blue butterfly. If he caught it, Master would give him a prize. He would be able to go home with Mommy, to his toys and warm bed. But Itachi would not let him go, not matter how loud he screamed in protest.

"Blue butterfly! Blue butterfly!" he cried as loud as his sick lungs could manage.

"No!" he tightened his grip on Sasuke's small chest, "Sasuke, no! You can't swim-"

Sasuke's hits were much harder than he expected, however. His kicks, of course, were even worse. Where he had gotten the strength Itachi did not know, but he held tight. Though he strained his poor eyes, he could not see the "blue butterfly" Sasuke so desperately wanted. He could feel the heat as it radiated off his twisting body; could this be another seizure?

"There's no butterfly, Sasuke-"

"Lemme go!"

Itachi held tight, his arms wrapped around his chest. There was the butterfly, right across the stream. If he wasn't fast it would fly away again. He ignored the pain in his joints, the raw feeling in his throat. All he needed was the prize and Mommy would come back, and the he could go home-

His body fell limp, his mind faded to black as Itachi lifted his finger from the pressure point near his neck.

XXX

"What's the matter with him?" Kisame asked. He had thought that Sasuke was making an improvement; his heart sank seeing Itachi carry Sasuke back to their small camp, unconscious and body covered in a sheen of sweat.

"He was hallucinating," Itachi adjusted his grip on the boy's back. "He thought he saw a butterfly and ran off after it. If I hadn't caught him, he would have ran straight into the river," he said, breathless.

Kisame shrugged. "Here we thought he was doing pretty good too." He sighed, watching out of the corner of his eye as Itachi laid Sasuke in the cool morning grass. They had packed up the tent not long before when Itachi had decided that it would be fun to take Sasuke to the river near-by to fish. Sasuke had been very excited and eager to join Itachi, had practically pulled Itachi by the hand to the river. And now here he was, unconscious and trembling.

"You know," Kisame continued, "maybe it's that curse seal? For all we know, that bastard's messing with us. Hell, maybe he's spying on us right now?"

Itachi said nothing. He rolled Sasuke onto his side before helping Kisame bury their fire and wash their scent from the site. While both men were confident in their power and skill to be able to survive an attack, Itachi, Kisame could plainly see, was scared shitless by the thought he had come up with that Orochimaru would be back for Sasuke, who had clearly thrown away like garbage not but a week before. But there was no clear telling what he would do. And why wouldn't that horrify anyone?

XXX

They journeyed in quiet, the day's heat intensifying as the sun rose higher and higher in its lonely, daily path. After much debate and passive aggressive banter they ventured to the relative cool of the open road, for the forest was far too tight and humid for Sasuke who, delirious and groaning, Itachi carried like a baby in his arms. Everywhere, every tree and leaf, he saw and pointed to "blue butterflies". His eyes, glassy and heavy-lidded, raced from spot to spot, his arms too slow to follow as he tried to catch and count the numerous dreamy insects.

"I-Itachi," he whined, "stop…have't get butterfly." He wearily struggled, only to grow quiet as Itachi hushed him, "In a moment. We'll stop in just one moment."

Kisame was silent through-out, keeping his sense open for even the most minor of disturbances. The road was empty of other travelers, though this did very little to settle their minds. He could see out of the corner of his eye how Itachi maneuvered Sasuke's head so as to get a better look at his neck where Orochimaru's curse seal was visible. To be honest, however, in the frenzy of merely keeping the boy alive, they had barely noticed it, instead seeing it as nothing more than just another reminder of Orochimaru's torture and abuse. Kisame would be the first to admit that neither of them were expects in such seals and perhaps they should have been more observant, but-

"Kisame," Itachi's voice was taunt, "how much longer?"

XXX

In the brush beside the road there sat a snake. It sat on its tummy, beneath what would appear to most readers as a juniper bush. It tasted the intense heat of the day, but ignored it in favor of observing the two figures that slowly made their way along the long, dusty, dirt road. The snake was a normal creature, nondescript in its brown scales and thin, pink tongue. It was no longer than a man's arm, not thicker than your wrist. Its little black eyes were shiny as crystals as it studied the scene of the large man, with the smaller one with a bundle not far behind, their scents salty in the wet heat of the day. Two different tugs pulled its mind; from the south it felt the pull from its master's string. From not but some yards away it felt pulled towards the smaller figure and bundle it carried tightly.

And from this tug its master knew all he needed to know.

XXX

It was well past dark when they made it into a small village of no accord. They found a shabby room in a dark in, complete with rust in the sink of the only bathroom, located kindly in the back near the dumpsters and trash and tears and snares in the single mat in the closet that was their room. While Itachi grimaced at the accommodations, Sasuke, his eyes bright with the fire of fever and his skin almost white, smiled brightly at the blue butterflies that danced above him. He would have got up and danced about the room if Itachi hadn't pushed him back onto his back. Itachi could not, however, stop him from raising his hands and trying to grab at the lovely little butterflies from his place on the mat.

"Maybe we should knock him out again?" Kisame asked from his place by the door. But Itachi's frown deepened.

"I can't keep knocking him out everytime-"

Sasuke's arms stiffened, his happy coos and giggles at his butterflies silenced. His fingers clawed, his arms bent in, his face grimaced as his eyes rolled back into his head. There was no stopping the convulsions or yelps that once again claimed Sasuke's body. Itachi could only try and keep his head from smashing against the hard-wood floor as Kisame secured his arms.

XXX

The seizure was the final straw for Kisame, who took it upon himself to find the village "ninja doctor", a doctor who, as the title suggests, mostly dealt in ninja and ninja-related injuries, most of which were often far beyond the capabilities of the local physician. They also knew how to keep their mouths shut.

The doctor was easy to find; however, there was only one way to ensure his loyalty and for now, Kisame and Itachi's purse held just enough. The doctor was quick in his examination. Sasuke was quiet, his eyes oddly bright, his body limp and pliant. Itachi was silent, his body tense and rigid.

"Well?" Kisame asked. The doctor ignored him, continued on his investigation of Sasuke's body. He carefully inspected the inside of his mouth, his chest and neck.

"Sasuke?" he asked, not expecting an answer. He brought out a flash-light and shined its light into Sasuke's open eyes. He frowned at the boy's reaction. The boy groaned, shaking for a moment before falling limp once again. Itachi held his breath as the doctor, an older man, sighed, covering Sasuke back up with the thin blanket before looking to Itachi.

"I'm very sorry. There's nothing I can do for him."

"What is it?" Kisame asked, glancing for any reaction in Itachi who stood still as stone.

"He has suffered brain-damage, but I cannot give you anything more than that," he turned to Itachi, "I could try to heal him, but not knowing where in the brain that damage is located or to what extent leaves me blind. I could very well kill him."

Itachi nodded. He lowered himself and sat by Sasuke's side, holding and caressing his small hand. The younger boy groaned, leaning towards Itachi's direction.

"B-bu-uder…uderfy…"

XXX

Sasuke awoke to a cold, dark room. Itachi and Kisame had left hours before to Pein for more money and time to care for Sasuke until they could leave him in more capable hands. They had left assured by the doctor that Sasuke, under light drugs and his own delirium, would sleep for hours.

He awoke to a headache, to his muscles feeling as heavy and as pliant as wet wood. But he sat up, ignoring all that with his mind still ensnared in the depths of a dream he had been having. His mother was downstairs in the kitchen, making a breakfast of pancakes, all drizzled in syrup and honey and butter, with a large glass of milk to the side.

He sat up and slowly, pulled himself up on stiff legs. He almost lost his balance on the way to the door, but he stayed up-right, a wispy smile across his face, his eyes half-lidded as he slowly opened the door, though it was with some difficulty, his warm bed and blanket forgotten as he tip-toed down the inn's hall and down the stairs, Itachi's traps useless against those _leaving_ the room.

Sasuke didn't notice the cool, drizzling rain in the near-black night, his mind too lost in his dream. The dream led him through the empty village streets, the promise of a hearty, rich breakfast bright in his otherwise dull mind. And _Momma_ would be there, making it all-

The dream led him to a door.

XXX

_momma carried him. she smelled sweet, soft, like the flowers in aunty's garden. he had been so afraid, his legs wouldn' work, but mommy held him tight, momma hushed him, momma kissed his head and everything was better._

XXX

Orochimaru was gentle with the boy, who's breaths were labored and who's legs hung limp, thin and awkward. He carried him gently away from the small village's gate, to the waiting carriage, which sat some ways away. It was for Sasuke, the rain being too cold for him to be carried back to their hide-out safely. A servant held the reins of the horses in the high seat, while Kabuto waited by the door in on the side. Inside, there was a raised cot built into the side of the wall, covered in blankets and sheets, with a large, downy pillow. Sasuke's eyes were opened ever so slightly as Orochimaru laid him on the blankets. He groaned, mouthed silent words as he left from the boy's limited view, and Kabuto began his work.

"Shh, don't worry, Sasuke," he said as he cut away the boy's nightshirt to reveal the sunken, bony chest beneath. His curse-seal was clearly visible, and was red and pulsing with chakra from its recent activation.

"Momma?" the boy turned his head, his eyes suddenly desperate. "Mommy?"

"Shh," Kabuto carefully ran his gloved hands over his chest, stopping every now and then to feel for an abnormality. "Mommy's here. Poor baby."

Sasuke moaned, his face relaxing as the warm hands glided over. He closed his eyes as those hands moved upwards, until they rested on his forehead, stroking through the thick hair. He was fully asleep when he finished. He didn't hear Kabuto tell Orochimaru hat he was worthless, that the brain-damage was too severe for him to ever be fully recovered from even with years of therapy and _love_. He would, simply, never be fit to be a ninja again. Sasuke didn't feel Orochimaru's hard slap to his cheek, his firm shakes, rough kisses as the carriage was off.

**I promise, I will try to have another chapter up by the end of the break! Blame college! Seriously, college sucks away all life…**


	10. Baby

**So, here is another chapter. Be kind and I own nothing! And yes, it does get worse. **

When Sasuke next awoke, it was to a cold metal table. He could not move his arms, his legs, his neck. His body felt itchy, heavy and numb. He tried to call for Momma, for Master. It was dark and cold. He cold for Itachi and Kisame, but his cries were nothing more than moans and grunts. He shut his stinging eyes, taking a sharp, shallow breath.

"He's awake, Lord Orochimaru," he heard faintly. But before he could open his eyes, he felt strong hands put something rough, itchy over them. He tried to open his eyes, gasping at the pain the _thing _did to them, shutting them again quickly, and the sting rolling over his eyelids. He started to cry, begging for help, please, he wanted help, his mother-

He tried to scream at the loud, metallic _whirl!_ that shut off the voices. Strong hands held his head and neck straight. He finally screamed did when it met his scalp.

Three hours later, the operation was over. Kabuto reattached the top of Sasuke's skull, careful enough to put it in place, though not careful enough to be mindful of the soft and abused brain. The strong paralytic was just wearing off, allowing Sasuke's body to react, to twitch and shudder. They had taken the rag off of his eyes two hours before, to see the effect a little stab to the right place on his pupil. One eye was wide open, the other half-lidded. Both eyes were red from the tears that had streamed down his cheeks. Drool ran down his chin, along with a liquid, yellow vomit which Kabuto was sure would cause pneumonia if not dealt with soon.

"There we go, _baby_," Kabuto said as he finished healing the top of the skull back into place. He stood up and looked over his handy work. It felt good, to see the once proud and powerful and _arrogant_ Sasuke Uchiha so damaged and frail, to see his eyes glassy and empty, useless, his head shaved and scarred with angry red lines over the white of his skin. He was especially proud of the putrid smell of shit and piss, the greenish brown stains on the table left from a small poke to one of the sides of the brain. It had been an interesting surprise by only sweeter by the groans and coos he had made.

"Shh, don't worry, baby, I'm taking you to your daddy," he said sweetly as he undid the boy's bounds and lifted him into his arms. "But first we're taking a bath."

XXX

Itachi changed after that night. He was quiet, colder and quiet. Kisame didn't dare say a word, but wouldn't have protested had Itachi killed him; it had been his idea to leave Sasuke alone. Itachi held the abandoned doll, his namesake, to himself at all times, on every mission and outing. To the outside world, it would have appeared that he had given up on Sasuke, but Kisame knew he was simply waiting. He was good for waiting.

XXX

_One Year Later_

Kabuto grunted awake at 4am, an early time even for him. But he had to, lest Orochimaru not have his favorite toy to play with. It did not occur to him how until he was half-way to _its_ room that, not long ago, he had been sure _this _would make his life easier. Now, instead of his precious and silent corpses and examinations, his life revolved around feedings, changings, and waking up at horrible hours to quell the crying that never stopped.

The room they kept him in was no bigger than a closet, which, in fact, it had been before Sasuke's arrival. After the first few weeks, they had added pillows and blankets in the hopes that Sasuke would be less likely to harm himself on the stone walls and floor, but the _baby_ always found a way.

Kabuto drew in a breath as he neared the dreaded door, grimacing at the painful wails that somehow were always able to manage to escape from the stone walls despite the layers of blankets they had added. Finally, he forced himself to open the doors.

The first thing, besides the harsh crying, that hit Kabuto was the perpetual smell of human shit and vomit. The pillows and blankets could never be cleaned of it, no matter how many times Kabuto tried. The cries stopped for one blessed moment, but only for a moment before starting up again with renewed energy. There, curled around one of the larger pillows, was Sasuke Uchiha. He was naked safe for a rather useless diaper. Tears ran down his cheeks while vomit and dribble were crusted from his chin to his bony chest.

"Shut up!" Kabuto yelled.

Sasuke yelled louder, his hands reaching up, clawing at the air. The only thing keeping Kabuto from strangling the child was the threat of death from his "Daddy", who demanded the child be kept in some recoverable condition. However, recoverable didn't mean he couldn't add a bruise or two.

The boy screamed all the way to the bath. He wasn't able stand and walk with Kabuto, who dragged him by the wrist while his diapered body skidded across the cold stone floor. He sobbed in the bath while Kabuto sprayed him with the freezing water. Kabuto was never gentle, especially with the scrubbing. He had to keep the boy clean for Orochimaru. The boy sniffled while Kabuto dressed him in another diaper and brushed his matted hair. Sasuke was always too exhausted by dressing to do anything but sniffle and blubber out something about wanting his "Daddy."

"Shhh, don't worry, retard. Daddy will be here soon," Kabuto said, guiding him much more gently to their master's chambers now that the boy was clean. "And then you get to play a special game with Daddy."

"N-No game…" the boy stuttered.

He hugged himself tightly, stopping suddenly before Kabuto pushed him forward.

"You don't like Daddy's games? Poor _baby_."

Sasuke whimpered at the tight hold Kabuto held onto his shoulders. He stumbled forward, just catching himself as they turned a corner and came to the door which would lead them to Orochimaru's chambers. Kabuto still held onto his arm tightly as he knocked twice before he entered the room, dragging the confused boy behind him.

The room was small, the walls and floor stone, just as with the rest of the base. To the side were a dresser and mirror, to the other side a desk and chair, and in the center was the bed. All of the furniture was wood, all of it old and warped, unpolished and dull. The room was musty, hot despite the coolness of the rest of the base. It was, of course, dark, as it was lit with only one oil lamp which stood on the desk.

"My, what do we have here?" a rough, croaking voice asked. It came from the nest of blankets and pillows on the bed. The nest moved slightly, but just enough for one thin, white arm to emerge. The hand, whose fingers were as thin as the legs of a spider, silently beckoned the boy to come towards the bed.

"Lord Orochimaru, I brought him just as you requested."

Kabuto released his firm hold on Sasuke.

"Come to Daddy, Sasuke," the voice commanded.

But the boy hesitated. He gulped, looking back at Kabuto, who smacked him hard across the back of the head.

"Now Kabuto, be nice to him u know how slow he can be. Now, come to Daddy."

Sasuke sniffed, gulping some spit he had salvaged from his dry throat. He slowly walked over to the bed, a delirious grin spreading across his face the closer he came.

"D-Daddy?"

The hand grabbed Sasuke's arm, forcing him down into the nest of covers and pillows.

XXX

It was many hours later when Sasuke awoke. He awoke to an almost overwhelming heat, to strong arms holding him tight against a skeletal chest. He awoke to a deep, painful fear that only ebbed into a quiet pain when he realized that the arms and the chest belong to his Daddy. He was in Daddy's bed, with Daddy. He snuggled into the bony chest, giggling because he loved his Daddy, because Daddy's room was warm and so much nicer than his dark, hard room. Daddy was scary, yes, but he loved his Daddy even when he did make him play his painful games. Sasuke felt a little more sore than usual, but he didn't mind. He didn't mind what happened when he didn't remember. He was always sore. Daddy would wake up soon, and give him his bottle, and everything would be fine until the mean man took him back to his room. Sasuke was so lost in his own happy thoughts that he didn't notice the coolness of his "Daddy's" skin, or how his usually tight, strong arms were limp around his small frame.

**OK, I'm really, really trying! I will get something up by next week! I WILL!**


	11. Baby Gets Lost

**OK! Here it is again! I own nothing!**

He was always achy and tired. His throat was scratchy and itchy, and his legs felt so weak and useless. He curled up into a ball on the cot, clutching the thin sheet to his body as he dreamed another of his mother holding him tight. He didn't notice the three men around him. One stood in front, carefully checking his pulse and temperature. The other two stood off to the side, both angry and loud, though this was not the fault of the boy. You couldn't blame the boy, who obviously couldn't help that he had come to them broken.

"That freak knew he was sick!" one said to the other. He took another drag on his cigar before blowing out a thick ring of smoke. He was nervous and shaking.

"What's wrong with him now?" the other asked. "He can't be this bad."

"His fever hasn't broken and it's been three days!"

"I can't do anything for him," the third man said. "I don't know what that man did to mask it, but this isn't a new thing. He's been sick for a while."

The boy groaned, his eyes opening just a bit.

"D-Dad-d-dy...?"

"Has anyone found the guy who sold him to us?"

"He's out of town! I've looked everywhere and he's not here! He must have ran out right after we got him!"

"Dada…wanna Momma," his eyes were hazy and glazed. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, with his head turned towards the blurred figures. "Mommy?"

_Daddy didn't get up no matter what the grey haired man did. Sasuke sat beside the dresser, his legs sprawled out in front of him. He cried, tears streaming down his sunken cheeks, a mean, bright hand-print covering his cheek. The man had hit him when Daddy didn't get up. Daddy was sleeping, and Sasuke was hungry, sleepy. Daddy always gave him his bottle, but he hadn't yet. The grey haired man was kissing him as he pushed his chest up and down. Sasuke cried louder as the man yelled more and more. Sasuke wanted his bottle, he wanted Daddy to get up, he wanted the man to stop yelling. Sasuke weakly hit the ground, crying for his Mommy to come to and make it all better. _

"_Shut up! Shut up you little bitch!"_

_He didn't even notice the man until he had already kicked him hard in the chest, knocking him down onto his back before kicking him again. _

"_You did this! You did this!"_

_Momma! Momma! Momma!_

"Momma! Momma!"

"What the hell is wrong with him now?"

"He's worthless! Do you know how much the meds will be?"

The boy was crying, clutching the thin sheet even tighter, his body spasming against the harsh memory.

XXX

The boy was just barely coherent as the men lead him to a rest stop some way outside of the town. The boy was shivering, whimpering, his arms wrapped tightly around his thin frame.

"Now just a little bit farther," the nice man behind him said, his grip on the boy's shoulders tight, just enough to lead him to the small shack. It was a small convenience store that sat in a small clearing near an intersection of road. The area was well travelled and the roads all seemingly the same, ensuring that the boy, who could barely stand for more than a few moments for falling down. "When we get there you we'll buy you a nice treat."

"Yeah, and then you can take a nap."

It was late into the night when no one would notice a sick orphan who had been left in the middle of nowhere.

"I wanna go home," the boy wanted his cot and sheet. He wanted his Daddy and his Mommy. His pajamas were thin, the pants just covering his knees and his shirt far too big. It fell from his shoulder, just exposing his bony chest.

"It'll be okay, kid. You'll be home in just a minute, okay?"

The nice men were taking him home. They were taking him to a little store where they would meet his Mommy, and she would take him home.

"Here we are," the man in front of him said as they arrived in the clearing that held the intersection and the store. The clearing was dark save for a small lantern that was kept lit beside the store.

The boy looked up hopefully, waiting for his Mommy to come and take him home.

"Where's Mommy?"

"She's, um, busy, kid. Now, how about we make you nice and comfortable, okay? He don't look so good, does he?"

"Yeah, you look pretty pale," the other man shined his flashlight onto the boy. "I think right over there would be good, don't you?"

He was sleepy, and didn't fight the men as they guided him gently over to the side of the store, helping him onto the cool ground.

"It's cold…Can I have my blanky?"

"Your Mommy will be here soon, okay?"

"Yeah, get some sleep, kid. Just sleep."

The boy didn't want to sleep, he wanted to wait for Mommy. One of the men patted his head, telling him what a good boy he was...Mommy would be there soon…it would all be fine soon…

_ The grey-haired man stood to his side as the men touched him. They held up his arms and opened his mouth, checked his eyes and patted his legs. He didn't feel so bad today, and the man hadn't hit him. But he was quiet and didn't want to look at anyone._

_ "And how old is he?"_

_ "He'll be twelve in July."_

_ "Hm, he seems a banged up. He's a little skinny too. We've got people who are into that kind of stuff, but I'm not paying for damaged goods."_

_ "He was just being a little mouthy the other day, but we took care of that, didn't we Sasuke?"_

_ He tensed and began to rock, back and forth. If he didn't say anything, no one would be mad at him. _

_ "See? He knows what to do. Just keep him a little drugged and he will do whatever you need. I'm giving you a good price for him."_

_ The other man seemed to think, giving him another look over. And then they said a few words and shook hands. Sasuke didn't see the grey-haired man after that._

XXX

The morning was hot, muggy and bug filled. They got into his ears, swarmed over his eyes and bit his skin. When he coughed, he spewed dead gnats all over his chest. He wanted to move and run away, but what if Mommy came? The nice men had said she would be with him soon, and what if she came to look for him? He didn't want to make Mommy mad or, even worse, sad. He didn't like being sad, and he wouldn't want Mommy being sad. He wrapped his arms around his knees and bent his head down to escape the bugs.

No one had noticed the boy huddled beside the side of the store. The was nothing there beside scraps of wood and forgotten hay, giving no one no reason to think his small cries anything other than the mewlings of the cats that favored the clearing and the scraps of the travelers that frequented the on their rest stops. By 11am the boy was far too exhausted to do more than nap and try and ignore the bugs, which had miraculously gotten better through-out the morning. By 1pm he had awoken, just coherent enough to know that he was not in his bed but not enough to know that he was no longer in his dream.

XXX

Shin and Gin were two men with a problem: they owed money to the mob. The two childhood friends had a small gambling problem that had only gotten worse with age, and now owed the mob sixty-three million yen. They had stopped at the convenience store on their way out of their last town in hopes of finding something suitable to eat with the meager amount of money they had managed to save just before their last get-away.

"Everything's too expensive," said Gin. He was focused on the energy bars after finding the potato chips, his usual favorite, too expensive. "Damn, how did this happen?"

He ran his hand through his thinning hair and tried not to let his friend hear the desperation in his voice, but it was Shin with the gaming problem. He just liked the horses sometimes…

"Shut up," said Shin. He had given up on the food and didn't even want to look at any of the brightly-packaged goodies. "We need to get out of here before any of them see us."

He tried not to look at the cashier, who was busy reading an orange covered book with great interest.

"What if that kid is in on it-?"

"_Shut up, Gin_!" he hissed.

He was two seconds away from grabbing Gin's arm and making their escape when the bell to the door rang, announcing its opening. The two men quickly looked over to the sound, each fearing the big, tall thugs that would surely come rushing in. They were ready to drop to the floor and crawl from their sight when they saw that the person who staggered in wasn't some giant, black-garbed thug, but a horribly pale boy in soiled pajamas.

"Daddy?"

Their ears perked at the boy's scratching, pleading tone. The boy staggered forward before seeming confused by a magazine rack. He spun it slowly.

"Hey, you okay, kid?"

The cashier, a young man with ruddy face, looked concerned.

"I can't find my Daddy…"

"You okay?"

The boy frowned and shook his head.

"My tummy hurts…"

It took Shin only a second to form his plan.

"Oh, what are _you _doing here?"

He carefully made his way over to the boy, grabbing him by the shoulders and looking him over. "You're supposed to be taking a nap! I'm sorry," he turned to the cashier, "but he's sick and we wanted him to rest outside while we got something to eat."

"Shin-!"

"Gin, take him outside while I get us something to eat, okay?"

XXX

Gin hadn't questioned Shin when he guided the boy outside. They waited under the shade cast by the forest that surrounded the clearing. The boy leaned against him, his body shaking slightly. His arms were wrapped around his thin frame, and Gin could see that he wouldn't be good for standing for much longer.

"Hey, um, you feeling alright?"

The boy shook his head.

"What's going on…?"

"Shin's figuring everything out, don't worry. What are you doing out here anyways?"

"I-I'm waiting for my Momma. S-she's coming to take me home."

"Y-You're waiting for your mother? Where is?"

"A-at work. M-my Mommy's a ninja."

Gin paled, but the boy didn't seem to notice. He seemed content to stand there thinking of his mommy, rocking slightly. Gin didn't even notice Shin as he exited the store, a smug look on his face and a bag filled with food on his arm.

"He gave us some stuff for the kid. How's he doing, Gin?"

But Gin didn't need to explain. The boy's legs seemed to give, and he would have fallen completely had Gin not grabbed him.

"Hey! Wake up!"

But the boy's eyes were half-lidded and blank. He was limp, yet light.

"Hey! Hey! Shin, what the hell are we doing?"

"Don't you get it, we'll make money off of the kid," he said as he dug into the bag, taking out a loaf of breath and, quite triumphant, before biting into it.

"How? What about his mom-"

"Look at that kid! You think he would look like that if anyone gave a rat's ass? He's a sick orphan somebody probably dumped here to get rid of."

Gin tried not to look at the kid as he gently laid him down on the grass.

"We'll go to the next town over and use this kid to get a hotel room-"

"Shin, he's sick. He said his mom was a ninja for crying out loud!"

"He's delirious! Look at him! He probably doesn't even know where he is! Now, listen, we'll use him to get ourselves a hotel room, then pimp him out-"

"What?"

"We'll keep him knocked out! He won't even know what's happening, Gin."

The boy was muttering now. He was smiling as he muttered. His eyes were still half-opened.

"Look at him, Gin. We'll be doing him a favor. He'll get a warm bed, food, and we'll get him medicine soon. It'll just be a few days and we'll have a little extra money."

Gin shook his head while he tried to think over the boy's quiet mutterings and soft moans. It only took Shin another five minutes.

XXX

It was not hard to find a hotel who agreed to take them in at a reduced price. Their nephew was very sick, after all. He needed a bed and proper rest. They told them they merchants on hard times, and that the boy-the poor, very _simple_ boy-had recently lost his mother, their sister. No one else could care for such an invalid, so they did all they could. The owner was even happy to give them a free dinner and offered to tell them the name of the town doctor, but Shin declined on the basis that the boy was just exhausted and needed his rest. While Shin and Gin gorged on their large portion of rice and beans, the boy slept peacefully away, unaware.


	12. Chapter 12

Sasuke barely knew himself anymore. His days were spent in a dull, aching stupor broken only by the occasional bath and meal. His nights were spent in a fast blur of images and sensations so confusing and vivid in their swiftness that he could hardly tell if they were of the same reality as his baths and meals. He could only guess that they were not true dreams, which were always so much softer and sweet, though he could only true know them for such short periods, as so painfully soon after beginning they would often end to the blackness that he knew too well.

He wanted his mother and his Daddy to protect him. He all too often felt tight, sharp hands all over his body. He would feel freezing colds and blistering, over-pressuring hots. He would feel so dry and parched right up until he would feel the wetness and sourness of water gone bad poor not only onto his weak body but nearly drown under its unsteady weight. And then, in his shock, he would sink firmly down into the darkness once more and know nothing until he cautiously came awake again.

XXX

Shin and Gin had been only at the "pimping" game for three weeks, though it had only taken a week and a half for them to realize just how much work the boy required in upkeep. The drugs, especially the Devil's Breath, kept him sedate and quiet, but those were much more expensive than they had originally thought, especially given that the boy was beginning to build a tolerance. The morphine would make it impossible for him to keep food down, and the stimulants they could find from the dealers on the street would leaving him twitchy and too feisty for the clients.

Their typical hull for a week had been 34,300 yen*, though most of that money had gone to the boy, the various hotel rooms, and other necessities. Shin especially wanted to bring in more customers, but with the boy so ill and weak, it was an impossibility. Who wanted to sleep with a child when they were unable to move on their own? Who wanted to touch a child who was covered in sours and filth? Those few who did never wanted to pay very much. They couldn't hold out from the hotel owners, many of whom gave them discounts and free meals for their innocent, sick nephew. However, they were forced to move from place to place every time they suspected that they may be found out. All of the moving meant that the boy couldn't sleep, couldn't rest. Gin usually wrapped him in a soiled sheet and carried him like a big swaddled baby. The boy would groan and whine until they drugged him again, which would mean they would have to buy more of the drugs.

They had tried it without the drugs only once, and it had left them with a bitten customer and an inconsolable brat who screamed so loud it woke up the hotel owner. No, Shin would not take that chance.

The boy was currently in his place on the futon. He was tangled in the thin sheet Gin always carried with him. He was muttering and turning in his sleep. Gin was out buying supplies, which left Shin in charge of the boy.

"Look at you. What an idiot," he said. "I bet your mom couldn't give you away."

He went back to his paper, snickering at the image of the ugly boy's mother pushing him onto unsuspecting passer-bys. No one wanted him, so she dumped him in a trash bin. Yep, that's exactly what happened. Shin flipped through the paper he was reading, paying special attention to the police announcements and wanted ads. He didn't notice the smell of human waste until the boy began crying and thrashing.

"What the hell now?" he said as he rolled the newspaper up into a tight cylinder.

The boy had vomited and most of it was now plastered to his face and hair. Shin could smell the reek of piss and see the dark spot on the blanket. The boy's eyes were opened, and he was whimpering.

"D-Daddy…?"

He grabbed the boy's shirt collar and pulled him close.

"I'm gonna make you stop this shit," he said.

The boy fell back onto the bedding when Shin let him go. He wrapped his soiled blanket tight around himself, shaking.

"You little shit! You stupid bitch!"

Shin hit the boy, then hit him with the rolled paper. The boy didn't move from his place on his bedding; he stayed still and tried not to whimper. Finally, Shin stopped. His breathing was hard and loud, but his face was calm. He sat back into his place and unwrapped his paper, calm. He didn't say much to a confused Gin, who returned hours later with a small amount of rice and water.

"Did something happen?" Gin asked. "He's really quiet."

"He had a nightmare and shit himself again. That's a normal thing for him, isn't it? We're not buying him another damn blanket."

XXX

A week later the rest of the customers stopped paying. Oh, Shin could talk them up to the room, but the kid was sick. He was pale and shaky and smelly and skeletal, and no one wanted to pay to sleep with him. Shin didn't think the boy looked so horrible, but the customers disagreed, and left without so much as giving the boy a second glance, or Shin a cent.

"We can't afford him," he told Gin. "We're running low on the Devil's Breah. What're we going to do when it runs out?"

Gin wiped a warm, wet rag along the unconscious boy's flushed skin.

"I'm not saying we need to kill or anything, Gin. We could just leave him somewhere, like that bench by the grocery? Someone will help him, I promise."

The boy groaned, moving weakly under Gin's hold.

"M-Momma…"

XXX

Sasuke awoke to the pitter-patter of soft rain drops hitting his face. He didn't know they were raindrops. No, they felt too cold. They had to be droplets from an ice cube. He tried to turn over, but the bed was so hard. He opened his eyes, and felt dim surprise to find himself outside, on a bench, under a dark, cloudy sky. It was dark, and what little light could shine through was reflected in the tiny droplets of water that fell from the sky.

"Momma?"

The street was narrow and empty.

"Daddy?"

He tried to sit up, but his arms wouldn't work. Hot tears blurred his vision as the rain drops fell harder and harder. His arms wouldn't work to move to shield his face or cover his nose, and the water was clogged in his throat, trapping the air. He couldn't breathe. It was cold, he couldn't breathe and he was cold. Where was he? Mommy wouldn't leave him alone. Was it Daddy? One of his games?

He cried when the thunder struck. The tears felt hot when they ran down his cheeks. He tried to be a big boy. Big boys don't cry at the rain or thunder. He couldn't stop. Each loud boom brought more fear. He cried and screamed until his throat felt raw. But he couldn't stop. He shut his eyes tight.

He was in his room. Momma would be with him soon. She wouldn't leave him when he didn't feel good. No, Mommy loved him-

BOOM!

He screamed. The water was caught in his nose. It made him cough, it hurt, it hurt!

He couldn't breathe, he had to keep coughing.

He couldn't breathe.

He wanted his Momma.

The rain stopped falling on his face. He kept coughing as warm hands gripped his shoulders, sitting him up.

"Hey, you okay?"

The hands that held his shoulders were warm, gentle, and firm.

"What's wrong? It's freezing! Why are you outside?"

The voice was loud.

"Hey, I can take you home! Where do you live? Hey!"

It was too loud. He opened his eyes slowly. The face in front of him was golden. It looked scared. Why did it look scared? But then another emotion came into his blue eyes.

"Sasuke?"

XXX

Naruto's day hadn't been very eventful. Jiraiya had left him to practice his meditation while he left for his precious "research," but Naruto hadn't stayed put for long. He first went to the local ramen stand. After finding it not up to his standards, he tried another. After his sixth bowl, he explored the small village, which was considered to be ones of the largest towns in the Nation. It was centered on a large, ceremonial palace that attracted thousands of visitors a year. Not that Naruto really thought much of it. No, he to the shops and food stands. He didn't buy much of anything, just a few snacks; it was the time off, of not having to think of anything or do anything particular that mattered to him. Jiraiya, when not in a town, made him practice every day, sometimes for the entire day.

But nope! He wasn't going to think of any of that today! Today was time for him to have to himself! And he had a wonderful day! Until it began to rain.

At first, it came down softly, just a few little tickles of rain here and there. And then a few harder, larger drops fell, and then those were followed by harder, larger drops. Soon it was a downpour, with cold winds and sheets of rain. And thunder! Lightening! The deserted streets were empty save for the quickly forming puddles. There was nothing to do but go back to the hotel, which would at least be warm. Yeah, he thought. He would go back to the hotel and have a nice long bath, take a nap. He smiled all the way back, happy with his day off, until he saw the boy on the bench. At least, he thought he was a boy. They were on their back, on the bench, an old, faded thing that itself looked like it could be downed by the next strong wind. The boy's hair was long, and matted in every direction from the pale skin of his face, the features of which were contorted in a painful knot. A blue t-shirt was the only thing covering him in the cold rain, and Naruto felt himself grow uneasiness at the…thinness of the boy's arms and legs. It was like he was already a skeleton, just waiting for the rain to wash off the rest of his skin.

The boy was sick, it was raining, he couldn't leave him-

The boy had black eyes, though they were red and puffy. And his shirt fell off from his shoulders, making the black marking visible and glaring given his pale skin.

"D-Daddy? M-Mommy?"

But Sasuke didn't make sounds like that.

"Cold…cold…"

The boy nuzzled his chest. He was crying, he was shivering and cold, though Naruto could feel the fever radiating off of his face. This couldn't be Sasuke…

He took him back to the hotel room, because he couldn't leave someone so sick out in the rain. He snuck the boy in through a window so the front-desk wouldn't see him. The boy was asleep, shaking but asleep. He was still crying. Why was he still crying?


End file.
